Bad Girl Brushstrokes
by CoreyWW
Summary: Amethyst tells Greg that Vidalia has been acting strange lately and she's worried. Even though he doesn't know her that well, Greg tries to talk to Vidalia ... and quickly finds out there's a lot more to this "bad girl" than meets the eye ... Takes place several weeks after the flashback in "We Need to Talk." In-continuity with "I Want to Understand."


"Uh, Greg, I'm a little worried about Vidalia," said Amethyst.

Greg looked up the guitar he was tuning on his lap. Amethyst sat next to him in the back of his van, her short legs dangling over the edge. Up until then, she had just been silently watching him practice. Her coming over wasn't unusual; aside from Rose, Amethyst was the only Gem _actually_ interested in his music. But Amethyst being quiet for _any_ length of time already had Greg a little worried. Her troubled expression just made him even more anxious.

"Why? Did something happen?" Greg said.

"I don't know! She won't tell me! It's totally weird!" said Amethyst.

Greg bit his lip.

"Well ... maybe it's nothing. Vidalia isn't always ... you know, talkative," said Greg. This was at least true in Greg's experience. Ever since Marty first introduced Vidalia to him, getting more than several words out of her was a rare occurrence, words that were non-sarcastic even rarer.

"Yeah! But she just doesn't talk to you cause you're _lame_! She always talks to _me_!" said Amethyst. She raised her arms up. "But the past few days she's been acting all strange and junk, and whenever I ask what's up, she just gets all quiet and says 'everything's fine.' It's ..." Amethyst's eyes went wide and her voice suddenly softened to a whisper. "It's got me a little freaked out."

Greg swallowed. He'd never seen Amethyst so worked up about something. The tiny Gem had always acted so ... carefree. She acted more like a child than an alien that was thousands of years old. Something that would make her act like this, something that would make her drop her normally joyful attitude ... it just had to be something serious. She wouldn't act this way over nothing.

Greg carefully put a reassuring hand on Amethyst's shoulder.

"Hey, hey! Don't worry," said Greg, reassuringly. "I mean, you and Vidalia seem pretty close lately, I'm sure she'll let you know what's going on. She might just need some time to herself. And that's ... that's okay sometimes."

Amethyst glared at Greg.

"Uh, if you saw how she was acting _today_ , you wouldn't think there's anything 'okay' about this." Amethyst sighed. "Maybe if YOU talked to her-"

"What, me? Why me?" said Greg, taken aback.

"Cause she thinks you're cool, she'll listen to you!"

Greg raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, we _are_ talking about the same Vidalia, right?" he asked.

"I'm _serious_ ," Amethyst said. "She does, she _said_ so! Why do you think she watches you play?"

Greg thought for a moment. Vidalia did occasionally stop by while Greg practiced, usually when Amethyst was around. Sometimes she would simply stop for a few minutes then walk by, but lately she tended to linger around. But she rarely said more than two words to Greg. Mostly she would hang around Amethyst, speaking in hushed tones he could barely hear over his own music. Honestly Vidalia was so stone-faced around Greg, he wasn't too sure she even _liked_ him, let alone thought he was cool.

"I dunno," said Greg. "I just kinda figured she didn't have anything better to do ... or that she just liked talking to you."

"No, stupid!" Amethyst paused then added, "Well, you are right about her liking to talk to me because I'm _awesome_ , but that's beside the point." Amethyst brushed the hair from her eyes and bit her lip. "Look, I really think it would help. Could you just ... talk to her? If she doesn't say anything to you, I promise I'll shut up. I just ..." She looked away, her tone so soft it almost didn't even sound like her normal voice. "I just want to be able to do _something_ , you know?"

Greg nervously traced his fingers along his guitar strings. Amethyst had been nothing but a great friend ever since he had met Rose and stayed in Beach City. Garnet had only just started to like Greg ever since he attempted fusion, Pearl ... well, continued to be _Pearl_ , but Amethyst had always liked and accepted him from the start.

He simply didn't consider not helping an option.

"Yeah," Greg said finally. "Okay, yeah, I'll go talk to her."

Amethyst gave a weak smile. She was still clearly worried, but knowing he had done something to make her just a little happier ...

Funnily enough, little things like that made Greg feel more like a rock star than when he was _actually_ trying to be a rock star.

* * *

Greg smelled smoke as soon as he approached Vidalia's small, dinged-up trailer on the edge of Beach City. He felt a cold chill, expecting the place to be on fire, but thankfully it was fully intact ... or as intact as it normally was. It was rather old, its aluminum siding stained with dirt that had never been washed out. Sitting in the dirt driveway nearby was a grey pickup truck with chipped paint that was missing the passenger's side mirror.

The smoke was coming from behind the trailer. When Greg cautiously walked towards it, he saw Vidalia, her blonde hair messed up and her white t-shirt splattered with various colors of paint (it was the first time Greg had seen her wearing something aside from her spiked leather jacket). She was standing in front of an easel with a blank canvas. At her feet were almost a dozen tiny containers of artist paints. She had her back to a rusted burn barrel with a crackling fire. A stack of paintings sate face down near the barrel.

At first, Greg didn't think anything looked too worrying ... until Vidalia picked up a container of red paint and hurled it at the canvas, causing a nasty splatter and nearly knocking the easel. She didn't yell, she didn't make a sound. She simply picked up one container after another and threw them at the painting.

When Greg took a step closer, he could finally get a look at the side of her face. She stared at the canvas looking absolutely livid. Her pink eyeliner and black mascara looked like it had recently been running. She was winding her arm back, preparing to hurl another entire container of paint.

"Um ... Vidalia?" Greg said finally.

Vidalia jerked her head, genuinely startled. Her hand froze mid-hurl.

" _Ah_! Greg?! What the hell?!" she shouted.

Greg put his hands up.

"Hey, hey, sorry!" he said. "I-I didn't mean to startle you."

Vidalia narrowed her eyes.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she said harshly.

Greg scratched the back of his head nervously.

 _Wow, so much for her thinking I'm cool apparently_ , thought Greg.

"Well uh ..." Greg started. "Honestly, I came to see how you were doing ..."

Vidalia stared at him, then rolled her eyes.

"Well, you saw, now go away," Vidalia said. She twisted back around and, in the same motion, tossed the green paint at the canvas. The entire eisel shook violently and fell over. Vidalia stamped her foot. "Shit," she muttered under her breath as she walked over to it.

Greg frowned. He was starting to see why Amethyst might have been worried. Vidalia might seem apathetic most of the time, but she's usually not overtly hostile like this.

"I uh ... didn't know you were an artist," Greg said, hoping to get her to open up.

"Big surprise, Mr. Universe doesn't know something," she said sarcastically as she set the easel back upright. "Want to state the obvious some more?"

She walked back over to her original position, scooping up and throwing a tiny can of blue paint back at the easel. Greg just stared.

"So um ... is this modern art or-" he said.

"No," Vidalia said as she picked up black paint at her feet and wound back. "This is me throwing stuff because I'm freaking _pissed_."

She threw the black paint, which hit the corner of the canvas and knocked it off the easel completely. This time Vidalia didn't even bother picking it up.

"It's, uh ..." Greg coughed. "It's good to have a creative outlet, I guess?"

Vidalia glanced over to Greg. For a moment, she didn't seemed furious. She simply looked ... _tired_. She sighed and rubbed her temple.

"Why are you here, Greg?" Vidalia said.

Greg scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously.

"Well, you know, I was just in the neighborhood and-"

Vidalia kept staring without even a chuckle. Greg sighed.

"Okay, Amethyst asked me to check on you," Greg admitted.

Vidalia's expression softened. She straightened up and her voice suddenly became much gentler than Greg had ever heard Vidalia speak before.

"She did?" Vidalia said.

"Yeah," said Greg. "She seemed pretty worried about you."

"... oh," she said. Vidalia turned away from Greg over to her burn barrel, looking directly into the flames. "She was here a bit ago. She asked if I was okay and I said yeah." She gave a bitter chuckle. "Guess I probably wasn't that convincing since I was burning stuff at the time."

"Mmmost calming activities I can think of don't involve fire, yeah," said Greg, nodding.

Greg actually saw the hint of a smile on Vidalia at that, but just a moment later, her expression was serious once again.

"I didn't mean to make her worry," said Vidalia. "She doesn't need to waste her time freaking out over me. Poor kid."

"You uh ..." Greg laughed nervously. "You do know Amethyst is like ... _thousands_ of years old, right?"

Vidalia walked away from the burn barrel.

"Yeah," she said. "And she's like an alien or magic or something. She's _still_ a kid, you know?"

Greg smiled.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Greg. "You um ... you like kids?"

Vidalia's eyes widened. She said nothing. Greg frowned.

"Um ... did I say something wrong or-" he started.

"No," Vidalia said. "It's nothing." But she didn't sound very convincing. She stood there awkwardly in silence then asked, "If you're sticking around, do you want something to drink?"

"Well ... I guess some water might be nice ..."

Vidalia gave a half-smile.

"Water. Alright. Careful with stuff that heavy, rock star. You have to drive home after," she said.

Greg smiled back. Vidalia walked to the back door and disappeared inside her trailer for a minute or two, then returned outside with two bottles of water. She tossed one to Greg, who awkwardly cradled it into his body.

Vidalia stood by the burn barrel. The fire crackled as she opened the plastic bottle and took a swig. As Greg opened his water, Vidalia stared into the flames and suddenly spoke up.

"Your manager is an asshole."

"What? You mean Marty?" Greg asked.

Vidalia's eyes flicked over to Greg, then back to the fire.

"... yeah," she said. Her voice sounded quiet, almost hurt.

Greg took a sip of water. He hadn't expected Vidalia to bring up Marty. Heck, Greg hadn't even _thought_ about him since Greg kicked him out of his van almost two months ago. Greg didn't consider himself the type to say "good riddance" or anything like that, but ...

"He's, uh, not really my manager anymore," Greg said.

"Yeah ... I know," said Vidalia.

"Does um ... does Marty have something to do with ..." Greg gestured towards the fire and the fallen picture. "You know, this?"

Vidalia frowned.

"You could say that ..." she said.

Vidalia was silent for almost an entire minute. Greg began to think maybe that was all she was willing to say. He took a large gulp of water when she finally spoke again.

"I'm pregnant."

Greg sputtered water from his mouth. He coughed up liquid onto the ground.

" _What_?" Greg said in a much higher pitch than he meant to.

"Yeah, that was about my reaction too," Vidalia said emotionlessly. There was a brief pause. "It's Marty's."

Greg's eyes were wide. He rubbed his forehead. He wasn't exactly sure _what_ problem he expected Vidalia to be dealing with, but it definitely wasn't this.

"Jeez ..." Greg said, mentally cursing himself for not having anything better to say. "I mean, are you- are you sure or-"

Vidalia glared at Greg.

"Yes, I'm sure it's his, _what kind of girl do you think I am_?" she snapped.

"What? No, no!" Greg waved his hands in front of him. "I meant are you sure you're, you know, pregnant?"

Vidalia's expression softened.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah ... yeah, I'm sure." She sighed. "Crap, I'm sorry, I shouldn't get defensive." She turned her face away from Greg. "Especially since I _am_ that kind of girl."

"Vidalia, you're not-"

"No, Greg, I _really_ am," she said. She shook her head. "I mean, I actually, you know, _haven't_ since Marty but I'm totally like that." She gave a bitter laugh. "And now I'm going to have a kid and they're gonna have a mess like _me_ teach them right from wrong. Yeah. Freaking hilarious, isn't it?"

To Greg's surprise, for just a second, it seemed like her eyes were getting moist. But she blinked and when her eyes opened again, they looked completely dry. Greg almost thought he was just seeing things. It was hard to imagine someone who acted as tough as Vidalia crying...

But then again, the fact her makeup looked like it had been running earlier made him wonder otherwise.

Greg didn't know what to say. He wished he did, he really did, but no words came. Vidalia seemed to notice his unease and took a breath.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to lay all that out on you like that."

"No, it's fine," Greg said. "I just wish I had like ... good advice. I don't really know anything about being a parent."

"Heh ... guess that makes two of us." There was a long pause. "But whatever ... I've known about that for weeks now. That's not the reason I'm pissed. Not all of it, anyway."

"So ... what is?"

Vidalia sighed and ran a hand through her bangs.

"Marty, basically," she said. "I've still been in touch with him."

Greg straightened up, shocked.

"Wait, really?" Greg said.

"Yeah ... ever since you kicked him out of your van on the way to Empire City and he called pretty much _begging_ me to give him a lift." Vidalia groaned. "Which I did because ... hell if I know. Cause I make shitty decisions, I guess." She gave Greg a sad smile. "He had a few choice things to say about you at the time."

Greg said nothing. After his last talk with Marty, he never expected to see or hear of him again. Frankly, he didn't care what Marty thought about him after the way he had treated Greg and ... well, pretty much everyone he came into contact with. Knowing Marty had done something to make Vidalia sad, a girl who Greg now knew was going through so much, made Greg's blood boil.

"What did he do?" Greg said. He clenched his fist without even realizing it. "Did he _hurt_ you?"

Vidalia seemed surprised at the question, but shook her head.

"No ... well ... not like that," Vidalia said. She took a deep breath. "So after I give him a lift to Empire City and he gets a hotel room, he keeps calling me just talking or whatever. He likes to talk about himself a lot."

"Yeah ... he does," Greg said, without much emotion.

"So anyway, he calls, I listen. And because I'll freaking do anything to feel important to someone, I guess, a few times I've even driven all the way up there and we'd ..." Vidalia paused. "Well, use your imagination. And then a few weeks ago, I find out I'm pregnant. And I don't even know what to say, really. It's not like I've ever had to tell someone this before. So I finally tell Marty when he calls a few days ago ...

"And he hangs up."

"... what," Greg said. His fingers dug deeper into his palm. It hurt but he barely noticed.

"Yeah, I know," Vidalia said, her voice getting louder as she went on. "I can't even call back because he calls from a pay phone. So I call the hotel today ... and they say Marty checked out. And I don't know where he went or how to get in touch with him or ... whatever! I'm not sure WHAT I freaking expected from that asshole, but I didn't expect him to just bail like that, without saying anything!"

Vidalia suddenly turned away, her back to Greg, facing the easel and the painting on the ground. Greg couldn't see her face. Her voice started to crack.

"So then after like ... weeks of barely holding my shit together, I just ..." She laughs bitterly and puts her hand to the side of her face, hiding it from Greg. "And I just straight up have no clue what I'm going to do! I mean, I don't want to do anything _drastic_ but like ... I work as a waitress, I live in a trailer, I make practically nothing, I can't ask my parents for help for a whole _bunch_ of reasons and I just, I don't know what to do, I don't know what the _hell_ I can-"

"Vidalia," Greg said softly.

Vidalia turned back around. Her eyes were wet. Purely on instinct, Greg took a step and lightly touched her shoulder.

"It's okay," Greg said, as calmly as he could. "It's okay, Vidalia." It was all he could think to say. He wished he had more he could say, something that would make everything better ... but he didn't know what could.

Vidalia wiped her eyes with one hand. In a moment, aside from the smeared makeup, no one would have been able to she had been crying. Her eyes didn't even look red.

"So yeah," Vidalia said. "There's that story."

"Are you-"

"Just ... give me a minute ..." Vidalia said, exhaling. Her voice was quiet, but steady, so normal it made Greg wonder if she had had experience hiding the fact she was crying from others. After not even a full minute, she seemed to be fully composed again.

"I'm sorry," Greg said finally.

"Don't be," said Vidalia. "It isn't your fault." She glanced down at the painting on the ground and set it back on the easel. "So instead of tracking Marty down and strangling him to death, which is what I want to do, or figuring out how the hell I'm gonna be a mom, which is what I _should_ do ... I've just been burning all my crappy paintings." She gestured to the random colors on the painting. "And throwing stuff to make even crappier paintings. And now, apparently, unloading all my problems on way nicer people."

"I'm ..." Greg chuckled uneasily. "I-I'm not really that nice."

Vidalia cast him a sideways glance and gave him a half smile that seemed more genuine than any expression he'd ever seen on Vidalia before.

"Oh, _please_ ," Vidalia said with a laugh. "You're practically a walking teddy bear. No wonder Pink Hair is so into you." Vidalia walked over and picked up one of the paintings stacked by the burn barrel. "Not to mention _all over_ you."

Greg could feel himself blush. He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly felt rather bashful.

Vidalia just laughed.

"Oh god, that's so cute, you're blushing like you have a third-grade crush or something," she said. "You're the dorkiest rock star ever."

"Did ..." Greg coughed. "H-how do you know about-"

"Oh, I've seen Pink Hair walking around before. She tends to stand out. Plus Amethyst, well ... Amethyst says a lot of things." She grinned slyly. "Did you know she thinks you're cute? Amethyst, I mean. It's kind of adorable, really."

Greg didn't need to look in a mirror to know his face had gotten even redder.

"I- well, I mean- I don't really need to know about all-"

Vidalia laughed even harder.

"Jeez, get a little more bashful why don't you, Greg? Honestly, it's a good thing you stick around with a nice girl like Pink Hair." She tilted her head. "On the road, girls like me would have eaten you _alive_."

Greg supposed he should have felt embarrassed (and on some level, oh boy, did he), but frankly the fact that Vidalia was actually smiling now instead of crying mattered way more than that. He could take being made fun of a bit if it made her just a little happier.

Vidalia looked at the painting she had picked up and frowned.

"How'd this get here?" she muttered. "I didn't want to burn these ..."

"Why were you burning your paintings anyway?" Greg said.

Vidalia rolled her eyes.

"Cause I couldn't stand looking at them after ... well, everything," she said. "They're all crap anyway. Well ... this one's okay, I guess."

"Can I see?" he asked.

Vidalia shrugged, then turned the painting towards Greg.

Greg was stunned by what he saw. It was an almost flawless recreation of Amethyst. Her purple skin, short hair, tiny body, the goofy expression on her face ... aside from clear signs of brushwork, it almost looked like a _photograph_. He mouth hung open.

"That's _amazing_!" Greg shouted. "It looks REAL!"

The corner of Vidalia's mouth curved up.

"It's _okay_ ," said Vidalia. "I have a few like that of Amethyst. Mostly I keep them around because she likes them so much. I didn't want to burn _those_."

Greg glanced over to the rest of the stack.

"Can I look at those?" Greg said.

Vidalia set the painting of Amethyst against the side of the eisel. She rubbed the side of her head.

"If you want," Vidalia said, embarrassed. "The rest of them suck pretty hard though."

Greg crouched down by the stack and started to look through the paintings. He quickly found out Vidalia was _way_ too hard on herself, because each of the ones he saw were fantastic. It was actually odd ... for someone who as crude as Vidalia, he expected some of her paintings to look like heavy metal album covers, hardcore stuff ... but none of them were like that at all. Instead, everything was ... _positive_. Beautiful even.

There was a painting of a beach at sunset, another of sunflowers with sunbeams falling against them, one of a snowy meadow at night with the moon in the sky, every single one of them not just good, but _amazing._ They were so lifelike.

"T-these are great!" Greg said, unable to hide the goofy excitement in his voice. "You can't burn these! _These belong in a museum_!"

Vidalia chuckled.

"Yeah, _right_ ," said Vidalia.

"No, really, these are amazing! Have you ... have you ever thought of selling some of these or something?"

Vidalia raised an eyebrow at Greg. She looked as if Greg had just asked her the most outlandish thing the world.

"Not ... really," Vidalia said. "I mean, I guess I could try, I just- well, painting is just something I've always _done_ , you know? I just did it because I wanted to. I never thought anyone might actually _like_ that stuff ..." She shrugged. "Really, aside from Amethyst, the only people who say much about them are guys trying to hit on me." She paused briefly. "You're like ... you're not hitting on me, right?"

"What? _No_!" Greg said with a laugh.

Vidalia stared at him.

"... you're sure?" she said.

"Yes! I mean, no!" Greg stammered, tripping over double negatives. "I mean _I'm not hitting on you_!"

Vidalia gave a small frown. She almost looked disappointed.

"Ah well ... still a sweet thing to say," Vidalia said. She thought for a moment. "Maybe I won't burn them then." She glanced at the paint-splattered canvas sitting on the easel. "Even that dumb one I wasted half my paint on over there is making me smile a little ..."

Greg cleared his throat.

"You uh ... you think you'll be alright, Vidalia?" he said.

"I'm a big girl, I'll be fine," Vidalia said. She gave a small smile. "Thanks for, you know, checking on me. If you see Amethyst, let her know I chilled out or whatever."

Greg smiled back.

"Thanks. I wish there was more I could do though," he said.

Vidalia gave a dismissive wave.

"Trust me ... you've done enough already," Vidalia said. She gave him a serious look. "You can't fix everything for everyone, Greg." She gave a chuckle. "You can't save the world, you know."

Greg shrugged.

"Yeah ... still worth trying though."

Vidalia didn't reply, but was still beaming.

"Anyway, thanks," she said. "Now stop worrying about me and go enjoy yourself with Pink Hair or something."

Now understanding Vidalia's sarcasm as a term of endearment, Greg just gave a nod and turned to leave. He started to walk away, Vidalia's words echoing in his head. _You can't save the world, you know._ She was right, but he still wish there was something he could do. Part of him wanted to find Marty and, despite being a non-violent person, just deck him for what he did to her ... but Greg knew even if he found Marty and dragged him to Beach City, it wouldn't do any good; there was no way he'd take any responsibility. But there had to be something else, even something small, he could do ...

He thought of Vidalia's paintings and stopped walking. Maybe there was _something_.

He turned back to Vidalia, who was busy moving her stack of paintings away from the burn barrel.

"Say um, Vidalia?" Greg said.

Vidalia looked up.

"Hm?"

"You uh ..." Greg scratched the back of his neck. "You wouldn't happen to do um ... commissions or anything, would you?"

Vidalia raised an eyebrow.

"Never really thought of that but ... why?" she said.

"Weeeeellll ... I was just thinking ... having a portrait of Rose or something might be pretty sweet. I was wondering if I could like ... pay you for one?"

Vidalia blinked.

"Where are you gonna even hang a painting, Greg? _You live in a van_."

"Well," said Greg. "I uh ... I'm sure I'll think of something. So um ... yeah, how much would you charge for that kinda thing?"

Vidalia narrowed her eyes.

"Greg, I don't want any kind of charity or-"

Greg gave Vidalia a stern look.

"Vidalia, it's not charity, your stuff really is worth something. Now ... come on, for real, how much?"

Vidalia seemed taken aback. She ran her hand through her bangs.

"Uh ... jeez, I don't even know ... three hundred or something, I guess?"

Greg smiled.

"Yeah, okay, great," he said. "I'm pretty stoked. I'm sure it'll look _great_." He turned to walk away. "I'll come back tomorrow with your six hundred dollars."

"Greg, I said three-"

" _Sorry, can't hear you_ ," Greg said without looking back. He moved as fast as he could without breaking into a run, not wanting to give Vidalia the chance to correct him. It wasn't much, and it was honestly more than Greg should be giving since he only had so much saved up for food, but at least it was _something_.

Besides, a mother could use that money way better than he ever could.

When he was far enough away, he risked a glance back. Vidalia was still there, watching him. He could still make out a warm grin on her face. It was nice to see. Before today, Greg wasn't even sure he had _ever_ seen Vidalia smile about anything. He was glad to give her a reason to, despite everything she had on her mind.

Maybe Greg was being overly optimistic, but he hoped the days ahead gave her more reasons to smile.

She certainly deserved to.


End file.
